Original Gangsta
by Licking Pennies
Summary: Gangs aren't what they used to be, and in a place like Korea, getting away with stuff ain't all that easy anymore. How do you get around that? Be the new Capone, kid! Come join me for a smoke. R&R if you want.


Oh, this is gonna be a treat. I do not own Tekken, Namco does. That includes the characters. Oh yea, this is my first super minimal OC fic. Besides the members of the gang here and there, nobody else. I tried one, but I couldn't. This is bound to be nice though, and the idea came from a freakin' SHIRT! Ok, here we go.

Original Gangsta

It was dark out... so damn dark that it seemed that it muscled light out of it's way to gain dominance. In this muddy, creepy darkness, a group of young men strode, with a walk like they owned the world. Why shouldn't they? Hell, they owned this part of town, and the next two parts over. Even more than that, really. Hell, they're untouchable, basically! Why was there a ragtag group of miscreants walking through the streets at... what... two in the morning? Easy, man. The answer is right in front of you... or them, I meant to say. There's gonna be a rumble! Oh yea... rumble... anyway. This group stopped in front of a larger group a few feet in front of them. Two men stepped out of these huge, angry groups of people. One had red, about shoulder length hair, goggles at top his head, and this time he was wearing a black wife beater (A-shirt) with a necklace with a rose with two guns crossed behind it dangling, and black training type pants, with light material boots and fingerless gloves of the same color. Hwoarang had obviously dressed to beat someone down in the dark and not be seen. The other guy was tall and lanky, with a very shaggy mop of hair. He wore a standard black outfit. You know, black long sleeved T, black jeans, black sneakers. The two faced off, as their eyes met, piercing through the darkness.

"You outnumber us, huh? You scared?" Hwoarang sneered at the guy across from him...

"Us, scared? Fuck no. Don't you worry 'bout that." The guy seemed to think he had it all under control, thinking numbers weren't a statement of fear.

"Pssshht. Fuck that." Oh yea, right after Hwoarang said that, he fired off a lightning fast roundhouse, and a high one, too.

Yea, the guy actually blocked it, and once he did, both gangs sprung at each other, punches flying like machine gun fire, kicks like javelin missiles. The fiercest fight was between the two leaders, Hwoarang, and this cocky punk who thought he was better. The guy, after he blocked Hwoarang's kick with his forearm, threw it to the side, and threw a fast haymaker at him, hoping he threw him off balance with the deflection. All Hwoarang did was duck it, and rise, giving a reverse crescent kick, the outside of his right foot smashing into the guys face and stumbling him, but he caught himself, and retaliated with a stone side kick. The funny part was, Hwoarang had gotten both his legs down almost immediately after he hit the guy, and when he came with his kick, it was stopped with a loud clap, as his opponent had thrown a side kick with the right leg, with almost no effort and the exact same spot, the two men's soles clapping together. A smirk came over the red head, as he leaned to the side and slid his leg forward and then bent it, trapping the other guy's leg. Then he turned the other way, quickly, slamming the guy on his side. After that, a quick step forward, and a frustration kick to the face bloodied the man. The guy rolled onto his stomach and hopped up, wiping blood from his nose and lips. He then rushed in with a left jab, right short uppercut, and and fierce left hook. Funny though, he didn't get to touch Hwoarang, mostly because he had his leg pressed on the mans' chest as he flailed at him. A cruel grin, and he fully extended his leg with much might, flinging the guy back. Then he walked up, while the guy was dazed, and slowly trying to get up and delivering a heel kick to the mans' chest while he sat up. Oh yea, that guy was done. As done as you can get. Shortly after, all the fighting ceased, the other gang, vanquished.

"Now get the fuck outta our part'a town." Hwoarang stood strong and proud, some blood splashed down from the knee of his pant leg from that last kick.

The other gang hit the pavement running, as the night swallowed them up, as they faded off into the distance. That's where the gang called it a night, went back to Hwoarang's place, got plastered, and took cabs home, 'cause Hwoarang didn't want his boys dead on their hogs and crotch rockets. Yea, Hwoarang didn't go immediately to bed... 'cause he had a woman in his bed... and you know what happened from there. Oh yea, on to the morning, shall we?

The sunlight crept through the slightly open blinds like a bandit coming to take all that's dear to oneself... then a shuffling could be heard, and it bombarded in, losing all stealth it might've had, the sudden warmth and blinding light on Hwoarang's face, making his eyes spring open, then slam closed once more. He grunted and grumbled as he turned to sit on his bed, as he then started growling at the obvious humming he could heard coming through the air... damn, that's the only thing about getting a woman in bed with you... be sure they aren't morning people, just like you, so you can sleep in and be happy.

"Aggghh! Will you close that?" Our protagonist hissed, as he put his hands over his face...

The woman, she had long, ginger hair, if you needed to know, sighed "Oh stow it, tough guy... it's just a little sun..."

He stood, wiping his eyes, and creaking them open, so he could painfully get himself used to the light of day, who's embrace was of course absent at the time of his partying. He scratched his butt, and went off to take a shower, 'cause apparently, that woman he was with last night already took a shower... About 45 minutes (Hey, you gotta pamper yourself, y'know...) went by, and he came out of the shower, no towel around his lower extremities, mostly because he was drying his hair with it, then he heard the door open, and some talking, then the woman call to him from the front door of his apartment...

"Hwoarang, the cops are here..." then she looked back at him, and snickered a bit... "You also might wanna put some pants on or something..."

Pants he did put on, his normal pair, you know, and went to the door, happy the ones from last night were being washed downstairs as he spoke... "Yes officers?"

One of them took off his hat, looking at him blankly "Yes, where were you last night, around 1:50-2:15 in the morning?"

Hwoarang said coolly, almost like it was really the truth... "I was here, with..." only a split second to spit out a name, c'mon... "...Rita."

The other one's eyebrow quirked, and then it was apparent who it was... DAMN! What is he doing here?

"Heh, oh really? I don't much believe you, and I believe that you know why..." the man said...

The young man's temper kinda flared, as he lashed out "Shut up, Lei... look, you got no evidence, so here... Rita!"

'Rita' came to him, with a jar full of money... she handed it to him, and had a look of worry on her face, not only for him, but also for herself... hell, she'd be busted for helping him out, you know... the super cool Korean bounced the jar up and down on his hand, then shoved it into the other officers' chest, with an angry sneer on his face, as he leaned against the doorway. Great, that was pretty much all the money he had too, but he was also hoping that the bribe, though it was all he had, didn't fail and come back to him, 'cause instead of a nice, well... neo-nice apartment, he'd be in a concrete cell behind a thick steel door. That's right, a steel door, not bars. They replaced that, seeing it as having too much freedom, because they got too much sunlight. Anyway... Lei went to probably say 'We don't want your dirty money.' but was cut off by the other officer who quickly said...

"You know, you're right, we have no leads, no witnesses, no evidence... as far as i'm concerned, I don't even know who you are, Mr...?"

"Smith. Heh. Have a good day, officers..." He then gave a dirty smirk to Lei, as he closed the door, and waited for about 10 seconds...

'Rita' came up to him, asking curiously "How did it g-"

"Shit! What the hell is Lei doing here in Korea? Isn't he supposed to be in Hong Kong, dammit?" Hwoarang yelled out, then sinking to the floor, sitting against the door...

She bent down in front of him, and gave him a sweet smooch on the forehead, saying brightly "Well, you got out of that mess pretty nice!"

He then stood, running a hand through his hair, and stuffing his hands in his pockets... gang warfare was already getting hard to control without Lei being on the scene, and now that he certainly knows that Hwoarang has done something, it's gonna get hella harder. Besides, everyone around hated the gangs, seeing them as big, loud dangerous nuisances. So therefore, theres no way to carry on in the manner they've been going... he needs to clear his head, certainly. He got up, and was thinking of going to the mall, but...

"Damn, I don't have any money... now where do I go to hang out?" He rubbed his chin as he started thinking...

"How about the library? I know it sounds lame, but it's not too bad of a place to think about your problems..." She was trying to help best he could...

He could deal with that... "Fine, I guess that's better than nothin'... what's your name?"

She gave him a glowing smile, as she giggled "It really is Rita... i'm surprised you knew..."

He started to laugh, himself, then he watched her grab up her night clothes, and leave. Yes, she did leave that easily, and that quickly. Thus is the life of a streetwalker, though sometimes they are quite warm and bold, y'know... this left Hwoarang speechless as he dressed, because usually he would just kick a woman out right in the morning without talking to her... it was an interesting change of pace for him really. When he was fully dressed, he stepped out into the sun, a straight look on his face, as he made his way on his beloved bike to said library that Rita mentioned and all. What was he supposed to freakin' do here, huh? I mean, c'mon... well, he sat at a table and racked his thoughts for a while, and then decided to find some books. He found a few, like one on cooking, one on martial arts techniques (You know, to thumb through...) and one on unique tuning for motorcycles. One particular book caught him by surprise, though... it fascinated him, as he looked at it, and thumbed through it... then he began deeply reading it.

What was this book? A book all about history's greatest gangsters and their exploits and workings, and the whimsical claims they made. It astonished him so fully, especially about how they got their business done so cleanly and fashionably, and got rid of those who got in their way, so conveniently. Hell, it really amazed him how the gangsters back in the day were loved and looked upon as role models by some, amazingly. Then his brain clicked, and he got a wondrous idea the likes of which he'd never thought of before, and it kinda scared him, but he excepted it for it's beauty. He was going to totally rework his gang, and get away with what he was going to be doing without a hitch and a care in the world. Oh yea, and make amazing amounts of money and be loved by all of Korea. Oh yea. It's plan time, baby.

With new idea in hand, and reference book under arm, Hwoarang stormed out of the library, cheering "Time to become a hero and a thug at the same time!"

Hell, what was he thinking? He was gonna be big. Big like the Gotti family, Genovese family, Lucchese family... maybe even get like the famous Chicago Outfit! 'Cept in Korea. Now here's the ball twister... how to exactly start this thing off, huh? He wasn't exactly swimming in funds, so he really had nothing to buy, sell, or anything... there must be something, he thought, as he looked around, shiftily... then he eyed his bike, and got a greedy grin on his face, laughing underneath, in his soul. What about starting off with stripping the bikes of his enemies? Maybe even cars? Hell, there's money in chopshops and hot car parts, and the best part is he could easily find a place to hide the booty, and nobody could prove a damn thing. He gave a nod, as he decided on the standard funding for his empire of crime, of which he would sit at the head, and though there was no prohibition, hell, people always had something to bitch about and be angry, and he could just take care of that. Perfect, no? Well, he now knew everything he needed, and with a book of strategies in his hands, which was really the Gangster history book, he would reign supreme. The proverbial Al Capone of Korea.

End of Ch. 1

Awesome. Freakin' awesome. More research, I need to do more. Though I have to say, it was a great start, and I hope this does successful, 'cause I love Gangster history, and this is such a big project to me, it's not funny. Thank you!


End file.
